


Don't Tell

by MoodyAquarius



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Blowjobs, Destiel - Freeform, First Kiss, First Time, Fluff, Fluffy Smut, M/M, Oral Sex, Secret Talent, Sex, Smut, dean is artsy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-21
Updated: 2014-09-21
Packaged: 2018-02-18 05:36:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2337086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MoodyAquarius/pseuds/MoodyAquarius
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean has a secret talent, Cas finds out. Smut ensues. A gift for Avery! Hope you like it:)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Don't Tell

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ElvisRose](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElvisRose/gifts).



"Sammy, you want another cold one?" Dean reached down into the trunk, rummaging.

"Sure." Within seconds a beer was tossed through the air, luckily Sam was quick enough to grab it before it hit the dirt. Dean popped open his own new can and circled the Impala's sleek body to join him on the hood. A silence passed, a comfortable silence, as each brother stared up at the blackening sky. Storm clouds brewed near, shudders of electricity stirring and threatening to ruin the otherwise nice evening. 

"Looks about an hour away." Dean estimated with a shrug, taking a swig off his beer. 

"I'll bet you it's half an hour." 

"Bet me what?" 

Sam pursed his lips. "The first shower." 

Dean squinted slightly, tilting his head, "Alright, you're on." 

The sun started to tuck behind the sky, letting the dark clouds roll in further and heavier. As the first raindrops fell, Dean glanced at his phone and cussed under his breath, looking up at Sam, "Let me guess, they teach you weather tracking in college?" 

Sam just smiled, "Common sense, Dean." getting off the hood to get to the warmth of the car as the raindrops gained strength. Dean followed, crushing the beer can under his foot and tossing it to the floor of the car. It started to pour on the ride back to the bunker, falling down in buckets of water. They ran inside, shaking off, as Sam triumphantly announced he would be taking the shower he won. Dean rolled his eyes, muttering, "Don't forget to condition your princess hair."

He shrugged off his damp leather jacket, letting it fall in a heap to the floor. He ran fingers through his hair, shaking off water droplets and rubbing his face dry. He wandered off to his room, kicking off boots on the way there. He stripped from the wet t shirt and jeans, changing into flannel pajama pants and a dry t shirt. 

The sound of rain pounded outside, along with the screech of pipes from Sam's shower. It was quiet enough... Sam wouldn't hear.. Dean approached his closet with shifty eyes, as if anyone were in the room with him. He reached in, behind a pile of clothes he intentionally left at the bottom of the closet. As the clothes fell, a gorgeous black Gibson acoustic guitar sat, waiting. He picked it up carefully, like a baby, returning to the foot of his bed and stroking the sun kissed lacquer finish on the otherwise midnight black guitar. Each string was in mint condition, hardly touched. He blew dust off the fretboard, stroking that with a gentle hand as well. His mind wandered to what his dad would think. He'd have to at least appreciate the aesthetic beauty of the instrument. Though John was a lover of rock music, he never expressed any interest in instruments, or playing them. Dean wondered what he would think about how he used to play his father's cassettes at night, in the few hours when he got time to himself, trying to mimic the chords on whatever shitty guitar he could steal from a junk yard. How he pined over Eddie Van Halen's "Eruption" guitar solo, or Jimmy Page's smooth, hypnotizing licks. He wondered what his dad would even say. 

He'd hardly noticed, as his fingers began to wander the fret board as he thought, touching easy chords like muscle memory. He set his right hand over the belly of the guitar, and began strumming those easy chords. Soon enough, he forget where he was, eyes closed, strumming away at the chorus of War Pigs by Sabbath. He hummed and sang under his breath. 

Quietly, without even a twitch from Dean, a soft flutter of wings joined the sound in the room. The angel stood quietly, tilting his head at the sight before him. He stood in the corner of the room, just outside Dean's peripheral vision. His eyes were closed anyways, and his lips were occupied with the lyrics he softly sang to himself. Castiel didn't know a lot of social graces, but he knew not to interrupt. 

Dean was someone else when he held that guitar, someone softer and carefree. He bopped his head along with the notes he was playing, muttering, "generals gathered in their masses..." Castiel watched as his long fingers, usually used to destroy, created something wonderful. The notes were just right, perfect and practiced. The key was exactly correct, even though the angel didn't know the song, he knew the keys were correct. He knew that much. As Dean kept playing, Castiel stood stoically, like a statue, but with a smile on his face. Dean looked so at ease, he looked happy. The musician opened his eyes softly, still singing, "In the fields of bodies burning...". He happened to glance upon the corner and, "poisoning their brainwashed...  
CAs!?" He jumped, clutching the neck of the guitar a little roughly, strangling the strings to a halt. 

"I'm sorry, I didn't want to interrupt you, so I was just... Observing."

"Interrupt me? What are you DOING here?" Dean set the guitar on the bed beside him, trying to hide it, as if it hadn't happened. 

"I came to talk, and..."

"Cas, don't... Don't tell anyone this. Please. Not Sam."

Cas stepped closer, a confused look plastered on his face, "Dean... Why would you hide such a talent?" 

Dean refused to meet his eyes, shrugging it off, running a hand down his arm nervously, "it's nothing. It's just.. This stupid thing I do. But it's not... I'm not..." The hunter's face crept into a shade of red. 

Cas set his lips into a soft line, trying to meet Dean's face, then looking away, "Dean that is not nothing. You are very talented." He glanced at the black guitar, which had a soft wood carving on the side, reading, "Dean" small enough to go undetected. "I'm unfamiliar with that song... But I liked it how you sang it." Cas cast his eyes at his feet. He was enamored and a little dumbstruck to find out this secret talent of Dean's. He knew the hunter was very talented in combat, but the fact that this soft artistic side also hid away inside him made the angel feel warm. He wasn't sure why. He moved to sit on the bed, awaiting an okay from the hunter.  
Dean nodded and kept looking away. 

Cas touched his shoulder gently, with a timid hand, feeling his voice clog up with some sort of throat- shrinking emotion. Was he choking? No. But his voice came out strange and quiet, "Dean, don't be ashamed." He swallowed soft, looking at the instrument once more.  
Dean shrugged out of Cas' soft grip, getting up from the bed and muttering, "I th-think I'm gonna get a beer." He headed for the door.

"Dean," Cas' voice came out with a hint of desperation. Blue eyes met green and the angel asked softly, "will you play another?" 

Dean's cheeks reddened once more, and he tugged on his pant leg. "W-why?"  
"Because I like it." 

Dean wasn't sure how to argue with that. He approached slowly, like a wounded animal, "Promise you won't laugh? Or tell anyone?" 

"Dean, you have my word." Castiel held his hand up like he was taking a court oath. Dean returned to the bed, trying to get comfortable with this. It was just the two of them... Sam won't come in... Nobody will ever know. It's just Cas. He just asked for one lousy song... Cas would never tell anyone. He could trust Cas.. Right? 

He reached for the guitar, positioning it back onto his lap, sighing a deep breath. "Any requests?" 

Cas shook his head, just sitting contently, patiently. Dean thought for a moment, then cracked a soft smile, muttering, "Seems appropriate." To himself. And with that, he closed his eyes and began to strum the first soft chords of Stairway. Cas watched with fascinated eyes, watching Dean's long fingers dance slowly along the guitar, caressing it and loving it. He felt warmer and warmer as he watched. The more he watched his fingers, tendons moving like choreography under his skin, the more his mind wandered, imagining those fingers dancing on him, instead of the black sleek wood of the guitar. Cas bit his lip, listening to the sweet chords and Dean's faltering, sweet voice singing at a barely audible volume. He didn't mind, his ears were strong.  
Cas glanced at his face, which was lined with concentration on his brow, his eyes squoze shut in concentration. His face was gorgeous. Cas noticed a vein on Dean's neck bulging ever so slightly, and he got the urge to lean in and smooth it back down with his mouth. He couldn't tell if it was the music or just the presence of Dean making him this way, but he couldn't stop. The hunger grew as the song gained momentum, reaching the chorus that Dean sang a little louder, "Ooo and it makes me wonder..." He strummed harder, "Yes, there are two paths you can go on, but in the long run, there's still time to change the road you're on..." Cas really listened to the lyrics, digesting their meaning. As he saw it, he had two paths as well. He watched one path sit before him, singing sweetly, a private concert for him. That had to be worth something. As Dean played on, Cas grew closer to choosing. 

Dean's finger fumbled, hitting the wrong string and ruining the chord, he raised his head a little to chuckle, "whoops" his green eyes open and squinted with the smile on his face. Something inside the angel snapped, as he haphazardly threw himself at Dean, grabbing the short hair on the back of his head and begging for purchase in his lips. Dean stiffened, eyes getting wider, then narrower, as he let go of the instrument and returned the needy grasp, their lips making a soft smooching sound as they met and moved into place. Cas whimpered, leaning on further, asking for more, until very suddenly Dean was on his back, having to whip the guitar out of the way so Cas wouldn't crush it. 

The angel pressed himself onto Dean, smothered in more warmth as their chests met, their lips moving together slow and heavy. Dean gripped Cas' collar, yanking him back enough to pant against his lip, "Holy shit, Cas." 

Cas panted back, pressing his already hard bulge against Dean's hip, "I'm sorry, j-just seeing you like that... I..." He dove into Dean's warm neck, smoothing out the veins with his lips exactly how he'd wanted, suckling there and stroking his broad shoulders. 

Dean's eyes fluttered, a moaning purr rumbling in his chest, vibrating the two of them. "Cas.. Wh-why didn't ya ever say anything? Jesus." 

"I tried to, I guess I just wasn't saying it right." He panted into Dean's hot skin.

"You tried to?" 

"You're oblivious, Dean Winchester." 

"You're needy." Dean teased, playfully bucking his hips up against Cas. 

Cas struggled for breath, kissing any flesh his lips and teeth could find, "I am. I need you Dean." He wrapped an arm around Dean's waist, purring in a low voice, "You said you need me too, remember?" 

Dean's eyes fluttered as he felt his pajamas tighten, admitting shamelessly, "yes, yes Cas I remember."

Cas moaned, "Say it again." 

"I need you Cas."

"What Dean?"

He grabbed the angel's neck, moaning into his ear, "I need you, Cas. I need you so bad." 

Cas' eyes fluttered back, while Dean tore at his clothes. He shrugged out of them as he did, watching them fall in heaps of fabric to the bed, then to the floor as Dean kicked them. Dean stripped Cas of everything, but his tie. He grabbed a hold of it, yanking the brunette closer and kissing him hard. Cas' brain was boiling as he scrambled to undress Dean as quickly. He needed to feel that skin, that skin that hid from his sight. He imagined it was soft and untouched, less sun kissed and world heavy. 

"Deaaan," he moaned, begging him to help him rip the clothes away. Dean smiled somewhat shyly, remarking,

"I've never... Done this.. With a g-guy." 

"Neither have I." 

Dean hesitated, Cas stuffed his hand down the front of his pants anyways, gripping what was there, eliciting a moan from Dean. He snuck his head down onto Dean's stomach, letting his tongue trail the line of light hair that led like an arrow down to where his hand was grabbing. Dean's breathing hitched, "C-Cas careful with that." 

The not-so-angelic angel smirked, "Delicate little human."

"Oh shut up, delinquent angel." Cas gripped harder, making Dean squirm. 

"I feel as though you forget how powerful I am, Dean." Cas warned. 

"You're all talk." Dean panted, trying to make words proving difficult while Cas' hand was working on him, "You'd never hurt me." 

Cas didn't have a comeback, knowing that was absolutely true. So he occupied his mouth with something else. Dean gasped, shooting straight up in the bed like a bullet, "Cas!" A strong hand pushed him back down on the bed, as warm lips swirled around him, along with warm, wet sucking. 

He grabbed a handful of dark hair, biting his knuckle to keep quiet. Cas did it like a pro, it actually made Dean question whether or not what he said earlier was true. Dean hissed around his knuckle, on the brink of losing it, tugging Cas' hair. 

"C-Cas I'm gonna..." Cas wasn't listening. He yanked his head up, his lips making an obscene popping sound, as Dean gasped and came over his own stomach with a gasping sigh. Cas watched with intrigued, innocent eyes. Dean panted and cast his arm over his eyes, trying desperately to regain his breath from that, and the shock of the entire situation. When he opened his eyes again, his stomach was clean and Cas had his fingers positioned post-snap formation. Dean chuckled at the use of angel mojo. "You think you get a gold star taken off your record for doing that?" 

Cas tilted his head. Dean grinned, pulling him close and rutting up against him, reaching down and playing with Cas' hardness, kissing him simultaneously. Cas was the one panting now, struggling to keep up with Dean's kiss as his body flipped and struggled. Dean turned, pressing Cas into the bed, muttering, "Here goes.." As he took Cas in his mouth. His eyes watered slightly from the fullness in his mouth, then closed as he found a rhythm. Cas, meanwhile was thoroughly enjoying his vessel. He gripped the sheets tight around him, his lips parted and panting desperately as Dean sped up. It didn't take long before Dean pulled away and Cas needed to be silenced with a sloppy kiss. 

Dean absentmindedly checked where the guitar was, seeing it resting on the floor, safe from the destruction. Cas was still coming down from his orgasm, his chest heaving and shuddering. Dean lied beside him, tugging the blankets up around them, running long fingers over Cas' shuddering chest. He tugged Cas close, hugging him close to his chest, stroking his hair absently. Cas' breathing slowed into a content hum, nuzzling closer into Dean's warm chest, his nose resting against the tattoo. He spread his fingers out over Dean's large pectoral muscle, breathing in the slightly sweaty, musky sweet scent of him.  
Dean yawned, commenting, "Cas you smell like candy."

Cas grinned, "That's because I ate your candy."

Dean smacked his head, "And why would you do that?" 

Cas looked up into his eyes with a skeptical look, speaking slowly and sarcastically, "Because I like candy..." 

"No. I mean.." He sighed, knowing it was hopeless.

Cas smiled and kissed Dean's neck slowly, muttering into it, "I'll buy you a pie."  
"Deal." 

Cas yawned now, nuzzling even closer into Dean, and smiling nervously, hoping this was okay. "What was that song you played?" 

"Stairway to Heaven." 

Cas nodded. "I like that song." 

"I'll say." 

Dean insisted they get dressed again, so Cas used his mojo so speed up the process, and they lay atop the sheets, tidy and made, like nothing had happened. Dean twisted his fingers shyly into the spaces between Cas', softly, "Cas?"

"Mm?" He smiled at him.

"Don't tell anyone this either."


End file.
